In the Shadow of Your Heart
by PoisonLacedWine
Summary: Hades is dark, Persephone is light. Hades is death, Persephone is life. How could they possibly be suited to one another? Through all the trials and tribulations, one thing remains: love is the strongest power there is.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hello everyone! Though this is certainly not the first story I've ever written, It is the first story I've ever posted on here. I'm a bit nervous to be honest; I've never really shared my writing with anyone so I have no idea if I'm actually any good or not. Let's hope for your sake that I am. I know there are ****_tons_**** of Hades and Persephone stories out there but I couldn't resist writing my own, probably out of frustration at other stories haha. I have rated this M because I do plan for there to be some scenes in the future of** _**that**_** nature. Constructive criticism is most definitely welcome, though please be kind about it; I really don't want mean people here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!**

**Disclaimer: I think this pretty much goes without saying, but just to be safe. I do not own any part Greek mythology, I am just reimagining certain figures from it.**

He strode along the gravelled path, his long black cloak billowing malevolently behind his large frame. This was ridiculous. He had always loathed Mount Olympus and only ventured from the Underworld, his domain, when it was absolutely necessary. The gods here seemed to be threatened by his presence which, admittedly, he rather enjoyed, but it still irritated him no end. His brothers, Zeus and Poseidon, were much more suited for this kind of environment; they were lecherous idiots whose sole purpose in waking up in the morning was to bed as many nymphs and mortal girls as possible.

The Dark god sighed heavily as the enormous white marbled building came into view, and concentrated on the loud, rhythmic crunch of his footfalls when he passed a group of nymphs that were playing and singing happily in the courtyard to his right. They obviously noticed him because they instantly became quiet as corpses and unconsciously huddled together. He smirked and rolled his silver-grey eyes as he walked on. Honestly, what did they think he would do to them?

As he climbed the steps of the great building, he could hear Zeus' booming voice before he even opened the door. He placed a large white hand on the golden doorknob and closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself for a conversation with his brother, something he'd always avoided. Gathering himself, he turned the knob and pushed his way into the grand hall.

He supposed the huge room was aesthetically pleasing, though he disliked the unmistakable air of arrogance and vanity it held. Then again, it was the same as everything and everyone else on Olympus; imperious and unsubtle. It certainly wasn't to his tastes.

"Hades, my dear brother!" An annoyingly cheerful, baritone voice wrenched the god from his critical reverie. His younger brother was sat on his lavish throne of white and gold marble with a jewelled chalice in his hand.

To his relief Hades found that it was only himself and the King and Queen of the gods present. Offering them both a curt nod he said, "Zeus. Hera", in an equally deep voice.

"My, I don't think I've seen you on Olympus for a good decade. What brings you here today?" Zeus stood to his full six and a half foot height and strolled languidly towards his elder brother, the only other god to match his imposing height.

"Your son is what brings me here," Hades replied.

"My son? Which one?" It was an honest question but Hades didn't miss the small yet pompous smirk that flickered over his brother's mouth.

"Ares," he growled, already beginning to lose his patience.

At this, Zeus ran a hand through his golden hair and turned to his wife who was still sat in her own smaller, but equally lavish throne.

"My dear, it seems our son has been causing our brother a bit of trouble".

Hera rose from her throne and walked briskly to her husband's side, hooking a slender arm through his brawny one and tossing her russet hair over her shoulder. She peered up at Hades with her sharp green eyes.

"What has he done now?" She asked, clearly bored.

Hades sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

"He keeps on starting wars between the mortals," he said, but quickly held up a hand when he saw that Zeus was about to interrupt. "I am fully aware that he is the god of war but I'm starting to lose my patience. Do you have any idea how many people die during wars? Not just from fighting but also from starvation and disease. And just in case you've forgotten, I rule the dead. I have to judge every individual mortal that dies. Do you see my problem here?"

The Queen of the gods glanced at her husband who was staring at Hades with a rather amused expression. This irked Hades and he felt his composure dwindle even further.

"Yes Hades, we see your problem," Hera answered quickly, becoming alarmed by the Dark god's expression. "We will speak to our son and do what we can".

"Yes," Zeus agreed, turning away and taking a large mouthful of his ambrosia, "we will speak to Ares".

Hades clenched his fists. His brother clearly wasn't taking him seriously.

"Zeus," he said, his voice as quiet as the darkness he ruled yet just as dangerous as what lurked in its depths. Both Zeus and Hera did not miss this. "As I have said previously, I am losing my patience. Unless you want me to personally seek Ares out, which I assure you would not end well, I suggest you heed my warning and put a stop to his escapades."

Zeus, despite being King of the gods, felt threatened by his brother. He always had since the day he freed his brothers and sisters from Cronus' stomach. He _hated_ it. He hated that he feared the power Hades had since he was, after all, a very formidable god. In this moment he knew his brother was threatening him and he deeply resented the fact he could do nothing about it. Instead, he decided to try and push a few more of his buttons.

Plastering a fake smile on his handsome face, Zeus turned back around to face Hades.

"Have you got a wife yet?" He inquired, widening his eyes to feign innocence.

Hades raised a black eyebrow. "What?"

"A wife, Hades, have you got one?"

Hera, who was, by now, very concerned that Hades would detonate, glared at her husband. To her chagrin however, she was ignored.

Hades stared blankly at his brother for no less than 30 seconds before taking three long, but deliberately slow steps towards him and stopping mere inches from his face.

"No, Zeus, I haven't got a wife. Nor will I. It's strange that you are so concerned over _my_ relationships when it's really your own that requires your coveted attention," he almost whispered, never taking his silver eyes off Zeus' golden ones. Hades was satisfied when he saw the King's smug grin falter into an angry scowl. Through his peripheral vision he saw the Queens head bow in what was probably embarrassment. He didn't care; he refused to break his gaze from his brother's and didn't plan to until Zeus himself relented. This, unfortunately, seemed increasingly unlikely.

If it wasn't for the messenger god sweeping into the hall, Hades was sure he would be staring his brother down for the rest of eternity.

"Your grace, I have a message from your brother Posei-" Hermes began, but stopped abruptly when he sensed the hostility between the two brothers before him. He glanced at Hera who seemed fascinated by the floor, then back at the two powerful gods glowering at each other.

"Err...your grace?"

Zeus snapped his head towards the mahogany haired god, finally easing the tension slightly.

"Hello, Hermes. Yes, I've been waiting to hear from him," he said, seemingly back to his usual, irritatingly cheerful self. Hades knew better; he knew Zeus was just keeping up appearances.

The King took the slip of parchment closed with a red seal from the messenger god, turned his back on him, his wife and his brother, and made his way to the smaller door at the opposite end of the throne room, disappearing through it. An awkward silence descended upon the three gods left in his wake.

"Well, I best be off, I've got lots to do as always," Hermes squeaked, laughing nervously. "I bid you good day, my Queen, my Lord." He bowed and hastily left the hall, leaving the brother and sister alone.

Hades turned to Hera and waited until she looked up from the floor.

"Please do not forget about your son. I will not be as forgiving if I have to make a second tedious trip here," he reminded her coldly.

"I will speak to him," she replied, her expression as stony as his.

Hades bowed slightly, though it was really just a jerk of his head, and marched out of the throne room, deciding to take a different path from the one he used to get there. He wanted to avoid those tittering nymphs, and preferably everyone else for that matter.

Eager to return to the Underworld, Hades began to make his way through the labyrinth of paths surrounded with vibrant flowers and the distinct scent of life until he found himself on a relatively secluded, pillared walkway. He was grateful for the absence of haughty gods with their obnoxiously loud voices and excessively sun-tanned skin.

As he turned a corner, the King of the Underworld found a bright, silvery laugh tore him from yet another critical reverie.

He froze.

If anyone had been passing by they might have thought he had been punched in the face by some invisible entity. Luckily, he was alone aside from that melodious little laugh. Hades found himself instantly drawn to the sound and started to edge towards it, surprisingly quiet for a being of his size.

Without really knowing how he got there, he found himself gazing into a large courtyard from behind one of the thick, opulent pillars.

It was a charming courtyard bordered on one side with tall olive trees whose leaves rustled listlessly in the gentle breeze. Flowers of all shapes, sizes and colours grew merrily wherever the ground was graced by the warm sun and a sumptuous fountain sat proudly in the centre of the courtyard, its running water shimmering in the bright light of the mellow Grecian morning.

Hades, however, noticed none of the courtyard's grandeur for his eyes were locked on the figure perched on the rim of the water fountain.

A young woman who looked around eighteen in mortal years sat primly on the side of the feature, a little finch rested in her outstretched, womanly hand.

She was _beautiful._

Hades hungrily studied every inch of her; the way her deep auburn hair cascaded down her back in a fiery waterfall only to stop at her hips _–_ her _hips – _which curved inwards effortlessly into a tiny waist, then back out again, forming her ample breasts. This was clearly a goddess, not one of those frivolous little nymphs.

The Dark god's jaw clenched as a tidal wave of lust slammed into him. _Who was this_? He'd seen female bodies before, had his own body above them as he satisfied his occasional need for intimacy. But this was something else entirely.

Regaining his composure to the point where he was certain he would not sprint into the courtyard, savagely rip her clothes off and have his way with her, he resumed his previous scrutiny of her.

The beautiful goddess was giggling softly as the finch in her hand sang her a sweet song. In that moment, Hades was sure a feather could have knocked him over. Her smile was beyond anything he'd ever seen, it graced her lovely face just as the sun graced the flowers with its tender rays, lighting up her features as the flowers blossomed to the height of their beauty.

When the bird has finished its pretty song, she reached out with a slim finger and petted it gently on the head.

"Thank you, little bird, for being so gracious as to sing me that song. It was perfect. Go now, back to your family for I am sure they miss you," the goddess murmured sweetly, her voice washing over Hades like warm water.

The finch tweeted happily one last time and fluttered away, causing the goddess' hair to ruffle slightly.

Hades noticed the way she let her slender arm fall limply onto her lap in a rather dejected manner, and how she watched the bird fly away with a look of…longing? Yes, it was definitely longing, as if she wanted nothing more than to join that small bird in its flight to freedom.

He felt a strange pang of sympathy for this exquisite goddess that had entranced him like nothing ever had. Hades couldn't remember the last time he had honestly felt sympathy for somebody. True, he often felt vaguely woeful for the few souls that entered his realm who had suffered terrible fates which they hadn't deserved, but was always consoled by the knowledge that they would get what they deserved in the afterlife. He was a just ruler. Strict and unyielding, but just.

The god's musings were broken when the goddess stood to her full height and stretched lethargically. He took the opportunity to examine her further; her willowy legs which were barely covered by her plain white peplos, her creamy skin as it was caressed by Helios' rays, and, finally, he looked back to her beautiful face. He had to stifle a gasp as he saw her eyes fully for the first time.

Even from where he stood he could see their perfect, almond shape and the way her long eyelashes framed them flawlessly. Their colour, by the gods he had never seen such a breath-taking colour; a vibrant, spring green that outshone every flower in the courtyard. They weren't a sharp, icy green like Hera's; they were warm and kind.

She drifted gracefully over to the far side of the courtyard and crouched down in front of a rose bush whose flowers hadn't yet bloomed. Hades, careful to be as silent as the souls that wandered his domain, shifted slightly so he could get a better view of her.

Reaching out with a dainty hand, she lovingly caressed a rosebud and lowered her pink lips to its petals, planting a light kiss on the top like a mother comforting her child. Hades watched as the rosebud reacted to her touch by blossoming into a fully bloomed rose. His lips turned upwards, forming the first true smile to favour his mouth in a very long time.

Suddenly, the beautiful goddess wrenched herself upright and whipped her head in Hades' direction, her thick hair flailing violently around her little shoulders as if it was objecting to the sharp movement. Her dazzling eyes were wide with alarm.

Hades panicked, but managed to swiftly manoeuvre himself so he was concealed by the pillar. He could sense her eyes were still searching the spot where he had been standing a fraction of a second before; she must have seen him.

Although he was reluctant to leave the divine beauty that he was so enamoured with, the god vanished from behind the pillar, seemingly evaporating into thin air.

Perhaps his trip to Olympus hadn't been as fruitless as he'd first thought.

**Well, there you are. I'm sorry if you hated it, I hope you didn't. I listened to 'into dust' by Mazzy Star while writing this, it's a really wonderful song to write to. I'm a big music lover, I don't know if anyone picked up on it but the title of this story comes from the lyrics of 'cosmic love' by Florence and the Machine. Well done if you did. Go ahead and review if you can be bothered! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to those of you who reviewed! You have no idea how much you flattered me. I am slightly anxious about this chapter because it seems a bit dull since nothing ****_really_**** happens in it. However, you get to meet Persephone and see what her life is like so it serves a purpose. I hope you enjoy anyway!**

Persephone was sure someone had been watching her.

An unpleasant prickling sensation had erupted on the back of her neck, causing her to bolt upright from her crouching position and jerk her head toward the pillared walkway that bordered one side of the courtyard she was waiting in.

She was convinced she saw something black promptly retreat behind one of the pillars and continued to stare at it until she felt she was alone again. How odd.

Dismissing it as her imagination, she turned back to the rose bush she had previously been working on and smiled warmly as she continued to assist the scarlet flowers in their blossoming. This is what she loved doing; giving life and enhancing beauty. She supposed that was the way it was meant to be; she was the goddess of spring after all. Spring was birth, growth and warmth and it belonged to her.

Once she was satisfied with the now big, luscious roses, Persephone wandered over to a large olive tree. She stood on her tip toes and extended an arm, plucking a plump green olive from in-between the long, thin leaves.

She savoured the bitter taste as she bit into it. Most would hate the sharp, astringent flavour but she loved anything nature produced.

"Kore!" A familiar voice caused Persephone to sigh wearily and walk back into the main courtyard.

"Ah, my dear daughter, there you are. I thought I'd lost you for a moment," her mother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest said, bustling into the bright courtyard. Persephone had to suppress an eye-roll.

"Where would I have gone, mother? You only left me a few minutes ago," she grumbled, "and stop calling me Kore. My name is Persephone, we have been through this too many times."

Demeter frowned at her daughter but relented. Instead, she began to fuss over her peplos, pulling it down so it covered more of her legs.

"A lot can happen in a few minutes," Demeter replied darkly. "I really wish you had worn something else today, _Persephone_. This is far too short."

Persephone peered down at her white peplos which was secured around her waist with a golden rope. It was rather short, barely reaching her mid-thighs.

"It's a hot day," she shrugged carelessly.

Her mother huffed, placing her hands on her curvy hips. "How many times do I have to warn you of the dangers of men? You are very beautiful, Persephone, you know many gods have already taken an interest in you. I need to keep them away from you. It's for your own good," she scolded.

It was true. Ares, Apollo, Hermes and Hephaestus had all taken a keen interest in her; both Hephaestus and Hermes had even proposed, though her mother had vehemently refused them. The spring goddess had only been to Mount Olympus a few times since her mother avoided taking her there if she could, but during those few times she had always attracted a great deal of attention, especially from the males.

Persephone was already well acquainted with Hermes; he often stopped by their home in Enna to deliver Demeter messages, usually from Zeus. She was fond of him; he made her laugh and was a joyous god to be around, but she considered him nothing more than a friend. Though crestfallen, Hermes had accepted this when Persephone had explained it to him, and simply continued to be her dear friend, much to Demeter's annoyance.

She'd met Hephaestus, god of fire, blacksmiths and volcanoes, on one of her earlier trips to Olympus. He had spoken to her kindly and expressed his interest in her in a rather gentlemanly manner. Persephone had politely declined his offer, though, as she did with Hermes, explained that she liked him as a friend. He had asked her if it was because he was ugly and crippled that she had rejected him.

"No, Hephaestus, it is because I do not love you," she had told him gently. "Besides, you are already married, are you not? I do not think Aphrodite would take kindly to you leaving her for another woman."

"Aphrodite does not love me," he'd whispered regretfully.

"Maybe not, but if that makes you unhappy, you should know you would be no happier with me".

Hephaestus had given her a sad smile that tore at her kind heart.

"I suppose you're right".

"Do not despair, dear Hephaestus, you will find your happiness one day." Giving him her warmest smile, Persephone planted a chaste kiss on his gnarled cheek and left to find her mother.

Ares and Apollo, unfortunately, had not been so easily rejected.

Persephone disdained them both from the minute she met them. Apollo, the vain, narcissistic sun god who she couldn't believe was the twin brother of her dearest friend, Artemis. In truth, it was only through Artemis' influence that Apollo had left her alone.

And then there was Ares, a salacious dullard who had leered at her constantly, prompting Aphrodite to take an instant disliking to her. Not that she really cared; Aphrodite was an airhead. Even when Persephone had tried to dismiss him, Ares had been unrelenting in his attempts to woo her. She had resolved to simply avoiding him as much as possible.

"Yes, mother, I understand that you're trying to protect me but you can't shield me from _everything_. If I _want_ to marry someone I should be allowed to," Persephone argued, earning herself a disapproving scowl from Demeter. "Besides, I'm only here for the week and I'll be with Artemis, Athena and Hestia the whole time so there's no need to fret."

Her mother's scowl softened into a tender, if not slightly melancholic smile. "You're incredibly precious to me, my sweet child of spring. I don't want you to get hurt," she murmured, stroking her daughter's hair affectionately.

Persephone returned her mother's smile and leant in to kiss her cheek. "I'm not going to, mother. You're free to arrange and attend the harvest festival without worrying." Her mother always kept her away from these things since she was unable to tend to Persephone herself and didn't trust the nymphs with all the distractions. Foolishly so in Persephone's mind; she could take care of herself.

"Well my lovely daughter, I promise I will allow you to attend the next one with me," Demeter assured her, "it's just this one is a rather large one and I fear I will not be able to keep an eye on you properly."

As she said this, Artemis, goddess of the hunt, rushed into the courtyard. Her light brown hair was tied into a messy chignon and her sky blue eyes lit up when she spotted her dear friend.

"Persephone!" She cried heartily, pulling the spring goddess into a tight embrace. "I've missed you so much."

With a light-hearted laugh, Persephone returned the hug, savouring the familiar, earthy scent of her friend. She loved how Artemis was different from a lot of other goddesses; she was rarely bothered about her physical appearance and didn't drown herself in heavy, sickly smelling perfume. She was natural, much like Persephone herself.

"I've missed you too, Artemis. You need to visit me in Enna more often."

"Yes, I have been meaning to come and see you but I've been especially busy lately. I despise not having you here on Olympus all the time," Artemis replied, shooting Demeter a half-hearted glare, though Persephone suspected she was holding back.

"Hmm, well, I must be going or I'll be late," Demeter said, giving Artemis a reproachful look before pecking Persephone's cheek. "Remember, I will come for you on the seventh day," she reminded her daughter before hurrying from the courtyard.

"Well it looks like you're free. For the next week at least," Artemis commented once the harvest goddess was out of sight.

"For the next week," Persephone laughed, giving her friend a playful slap on the arm. Artemis' cheerful demeanour suddenly changed into one of solemnity.

"In all seriousness, you must get annoyed. She smothers you, Persephone".

The goddess of spring glanced at Artemis thoughtfully. She was right. She did get annoyed, but what could she do? Her mother only approved of her daughter having relations with Artemis, Athena and Hestia, and Persephone was in no doubt over why that was: they were the three virgin goddesses.

"Yes I do, but I can't do anything about it," she admitted, "I have a happy life though, and that's all her doing."

Artemis gave her a sympathetic look but soon regained her previous cheerfulness, "Well, let's focus on this week. Athena and I thought we could spend some time in the library today, if you'd like. We know how much you enjoy reading."

Persephone beamed at her friend. She loved to read but Demeter didn't keep many books around because she believed they would poison her daughter's sweet, innocent mind. Therefore, her occasional trips to Olympus were often spent in the library, where she was free to fill her inquisitive mind as much as she pleased.

Artemis grinned at Persephone's enthusiasm and began to tug her friend towards the main library. As they walked, Persephone picked a handful of flowers that caught her eye and wove them through her auburn hair almost unconsciously.

When the pair reached the gargantuan oak doors that led to the library, they took a side each and pushed their way into the magnificent room. Despite the many hours she had spent in here, it never failed to take Persephone's breath away.

The incredibly high ceiling was domed and decorated with the most intricate paintings and carvings, and the pillars that bordered the grand room gave it an even more majestic feel. Though a true goddess in her own right, Persephone felt intimidated by its beauty.

"Ah, my dearest Persephone, it has been too long," a regal voice sounded from the far side of the library.

The spring goddess recognised the unmistakeable voice instantly and swivelled around to greet her other dear friend.

Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare, stood from a large bureau scattered with parchment and glided over to Persephone, kissing her forehead fondly. Persephone peered timidly into the great goddess' dark grey eyes. Athena, though unintentionally, always managed to unnerve her, yet she was her only real friend aside from Artemis and Hermes. Those annoyingly flippant nymphs back in Enna were hardly her friends.

"It has been too long indeed," Persephone agreed, smiling pleasantly.

"Artemis and I thought the library would serve two purposes today; you can read as we both know you love to do, but it will also keep you out of the reach of a certain god of war that seems to have taken an avid interest in you. I highly doubt we will find Ares with his nose buried in a book, though I wish it were otherwise," Athena quipped, flashing a mischievous grin.

Persephone giggled at the thought of Ares reading. It was ludicrous.

"He is rather keen to pursue you, unfortunately. I fear the only reason my dear brother is not doing the same is because he knows I will incinerate him if he does anything you're uncomfortable with," Artemis mused while sliding a green leather bound book from one of the many shelves and seating herself at one of the long mahogany tables.

Persephone was touched by the care her friends were showing her. Unlike her mother, they merely sought to shield her from unwanted attention rather than completely lock her away from the world. She greatly appreciated this and was thoroughly looking forward to a week of freedom.

Meandering up and down the book-filled aisles of the grand library, Persephone finally chose a book on anatomy to read. She found it all so interesting, the way nature assembled things so faultlessly, and how everything worked in perfect harmony.

After a couple of hours of undisturbed reading, Persephone decided fresh air was necessary. Leaving Athena to her business, she and Artemis began to roam the bright gardens of Olympus. Persephone knew she could never get enough of the vibrant colours and the sweet sounds of nature. It was her domain.

Two laughs, one deep and resounding, the other high and sugary, distracted Persephone from a particularly charming chrysanthemum.

"He was drenched in his own blood, the fool thought he could take on three soldiers at once_–_"

To both goddess' annoyance, Ares and Aphrodite were sauntering down the path bypassing the garden, hand in hand, looking as pretentious as ever.

When Ares spotted the radiant goddess of spring, his eyes lit up instantly with lust.

"Well, if it isn't the beautiful Persephone and the not-so-beautiful Artemis," he sniggered, lifting his chalice to take a sip of ambrosia.

Aphrodite gave a spiteful titter, throwing her thigh-length golden hair over her shoulder, yet never removing her glare from Persephone.

"Go way, Ares," Artemis ordered tersely, positioning herself so she stood slightly in front of Persephone.

"Touchy, touchy. How are you, Persephone?" He asked, though continued without waiting for an answer. "I hate to see you in the presence of this boring lump of a goddess, allow me to escort you elsewhere. I assure you, you'll have a lot more _fun_," he implied, winking at her.

The golden goddess beside threw him an irritated look, which was ignored.

Persephone forced her mouth into a mock smile before replying, "Thank you for the offer, Ares, but I would much rather stay with Artemis here. I prefer the company of the more…_intellectually _favoured."

To her satisfaction, she saw his complacent grin falter and Aphrodite looking thoroughly offended.

"You really should learn to be less frigid, lovely Persephone. It is unbecoming of someone with your potential," Ares retorted, his eyes lingering on the generous curve of her breasts.

Artemis opened her mouth to say something, but Persephone promptly stopped her. She could fight her own battles.

"Frigid? Oh Ares, you are sorely mistaken if you think I'm frigid. I think you'll find certain things just don't really do it for me," she quipped, looking him up and down scornfully.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence as three pairs of disbelieving eyes gawked at the spring goddess. Aphrodite recovered first.

"And what exactly does do it for you?" She sneered, "I'm sure you'll never find out with a mother like yours. You'll probably stay a sweet little virgin forever, just like your friend here."

It was Artemis' turn to stop Persephone from speaking.

"I think it's time for you both to leave," she said, her voice glacier cold.

"It would be our pleasure," Aphrodite snapped, shooting Persephone one last glare before tugging a slightly flustered Ares away.

Once they were out of sight, Artemis turned to her friend with wide eyes.

"Where did _that_ come from?"

Persephone huffed and resumed her admiration of the chrysanthemum.

"I don't know, I'm just sick of being ogled at by every god I come across," she grumbled.

Artemis placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before saying, "I know. And I don't blame you. I'm just a little shocked; I've never seen you like that before. However, I have to admit I am proud of you. At least Demeter hasn't succeeded in making you a submissive little girl she wants you to be."

Persephone peered up at her and gave a playful grin, which Artemis returned.

The two friends spent the rest of the day enjoying Helios' blessing. Persephone revelled in the lack of noise; no inane, squealing nymphs, no chidings from her mother for straying too far from her little babysitters. It was simple, but it was bliss.

**Sassy Persephone, eh? Yes, my Persephone isn't a weak little push over, though of course her mother's over-protective nature has rendered her a little innocent. Let's just say Hades had his work cut out. Poor guy. Just to let you know, the next chapter is likely to be up much sooner than this one. Probably about 3 or 4 days so keep a look out. Don't forget to review! xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ta-da! Here's chapter 3 as promised! I like this chapter, it's literally comprised of one conversation but it's an important one...**

"Hades, my friend, you have been very distracted at the moment."

The god of the underworld was slouched idly on his throne of obsidian and, with great effort, he raised his head to the mystical goddess with blood red hair before him.

When he said nothing, she smiled sympathetically.

"May I ask why?" She inquired, never taking her dark blue eyes off his.

Hades merely continued to stare at her.

The goddess exhaled wearily and began to ascend the steps that led up to her King's throne. She stopped when she was stood slightly to his right and placed a pale hand comfortingly on his forearm.

"I only want to help. However, I cannot do this without the knowledge of what is bothering you so," she said softly, giving his arm a little squeeze.

Should he confide in her? After all, Hecate was one of his few friends and Hades knew she meant well. But something was stopping him. Embarrassment? Shame? He had never yearned for a _woman_ before. In fact, he'd never really yearned for anything.

Gazing up at her, Hades resolved that she may be able to help him. Stewing in his own agonising thoughts certainly wasn't the way forward, yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her _everything_.

He rose from his dark throne, towering over Hecate, and descended the steps as he began to vent a fraction of his predicament.

"What are you supposed to do when you desire something greatly but know you can never have it?" He kept his back turned to his friend, afraid that his eyes would betray him.

Hecate frowned as she surveyed Hades' stance; he was as tall and impressive as ever, but there was something different about the way his shoulders were set. They were hunched ever so slightly as if he had given up on something.

"Hades, what has happened? What do you mean you want something but can never have it? Please, you're being rather cryptic and it's rather less useful than silence," she complained.

The great god turned slowly to meet her eyes with a poisonous glare.

"Oh, my dear friend, you know I did not mean it like that," Hecate assured, drifting over to him and returning his glare with a compassionate look. This displeased hades for he was not looking for sympathy, he was looking for help (as much as it killed him to admit that even to himself).

With a pained sigh, his face softened to his usual expression of cold severity.

"I have simply found myself in a…problematic situation," he told her carefully, "it is causing me some distress, but I am sure it will right itself soon enough." He knew full well this was not true.

Hecate's eyes tightened suspiciously.

"A problematic situation?" She quoted.

"Yes."

"What kind of problematic situation?"

"One which I am sure will right itself soon enough."

"By the fates Hades, you are so _stubborn. _Why can't you just tell me?" Hecate knew why; to tell her would mean admitting his _feelings._ These were not something he was well acquainted with.

"Because it is not that simple," he snapped, his eyes flashing menacingly.

"It is perfectly simple. All you need to do is tell me what the matter is and I will help you as_–_"

"You will not be able to help me," Hades spat, "you can do nothing. I want something I cannot have and that's that." He began to storm angrily from his gloomy throne room.

It suddenly dawned on Hecate.

"Wait!" She called after him. He halted just as he reached the immense ebony doors he was about to throw open.

Hecate bounded over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder causing him to spin around to glower at her.

"It's a woman isn't it?" She asked quietly, fighting to keep her elation at bay as she knew it would infuriate him further.

"What?"

"A woman, Hades, you don't want some_thing, _you want some_one_."

Of course she would figure it out; she knew him too well. Hades closed his eyes in defeat.

"Yes," he grudgingly conceded, and he was sure the gesture physically pained him.

Although Hecate would have very much liked to throw herself at him and embrace him, she knew he would not appreciate it to say the least. It seemed absurd for her to be so thrilled at this new information, but she was tired of seeing her friend alone. He may have been the powerful, fearsome god of the underworld, but he was still her friend. She wanted to see him happy.

Collecting herself, she smiled kindly at him.

"Who is she?"

Hades grimaced at the question.

"I don't know her name," he stated gruffly.

"You don't know her name?" Hecate repeated, "Hades…when did you meet her?"

Another grimace.

"I…didn't _exactly_ meet her," he muttered.

Hecate gaped up at him, earning herself a contemptuous snort.

"I did say that you wouldn't be able to help. Even if I did know who she was, what could I do? I seriously doubt that someone as light as her would want anything to do with someone as dark as myself. Do you know what I saw her do? She made a rose blossom with a simple touch. She is a life giver, Hecate, I rule the _dead_. I am sure she would hate me as soon as she knew who I was, and I don't think I could bear that. I would prefer for her to never know me, never set her beautiful eyes on me than hate me as everyone else does. Anything but that."

Hecate listened as her dear friend practically opened the ironclad door to his soul. He was truly confiding in her, and about his _feelings_. This woman must be remarkable to induce this kind of reaction from Hades of all people.

"Hades," she said gently, "are you in love with her?"

The god whipped his head towards her, a startled expression covering his handsome features as if she had just slapped him.

_Was he in love with her?_

No. Impossible. He had seen her once, not even spoken to her. How could he possibly be in love with her?

"Of course I'm not," he bit out, "I saw this goddess when I went to Olympus two days ago after talking to my halfwit brother. I watched her, I didn't speak with her. She wasn't even aware of my presence."

"That doesn't mean you do not love her."

"I _don't_ love her, Hecate. Am I the kind of man to fall in love with a woman after a mere glimpse of her?" No, definitely not. This was a fleeting infatuation.

"I wouldn't know, Hades, I do not believe you've ever been in love before," she answered truthfully.

True, he had never been in love. He didn't love anyone in fact, not even his own family. Hades was not a tender god, he was not kind god, and he was most certainly not a loving god.

"But that does not mean," Hecate interrupted his thoughts, "that you are not in love now. Let me tell you, for the past two days you have been moping about like a child whose favourite toy has been confiscated. If this is purely lust, which I know is the false hope you are clinging onto, you would have bedded her by now," she raised a hand when she saw he was about to protest, "I understand that you are not your brothers, Hades, but you are a man and you still have…_needs._ Allow me to be so bold, but you are an incredibly handsome god and you and I both know you can seduce almost any woman. But you haven't done that with _this_ particular woman. What does this tell you?"

Hades stared at her for a moment before harshly replying, "It tells me I have better things to do than bed random women".

Hecate snorted loudly.

"No, my dear friend, it means you care about her enough not to bed her then throw her away like some common nymph. And don't tell me you wouldn't do that anyway, because you've done it before," she pointed out with an arched eyebrow.

"Do not speak to me as if I'm a child, Hecate. I may be your friend but I'm still your King and you'd do well to remember that," he warned.

"Of course. But even Kings need help."

Hades seemed to think about that for a moment.

"You cannot help me Hecate," he maintained in a surprisingly soft tone. When she went to speak, he held up a hand.

"I will here no more of it. I have much work to do in cleaning up after Ares' exploits," he told her brusquely, and Hecate recognised the dismissal.

She knew all she could do was wait until he was willing to open up again. However, she feared this would take a very long time indeed, and time was of the essence if he didn't know who this goddess was. He could lose her, never find her again, and then what? Hecate was sure he would not take it well, no matter how ardently he insisted that it was simply lust he felt for her.

Before she proceeded to close the door behind her on her way out, Hades' voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Hecate. Do not dare to speak of this to anyone. You know me well enough to know that I do not make idle threats," he said, his voice a dangerous mixture of velvet and ice.

Hecate gave him a doleful nod before watching him return to his dark throne and leaving him to his thoughts.

Hades' heart seemed to be attempting to free itself from his chest; it hammered pitilessly against his ribcage, tormenting him for his denial. Denial. It was denial, he knew.

This elusive goddess had afflicted him with such fervent emotions, he had never felt anything like it in his life. Yes, his body ached for her intimate touch, but it was so much more than that. He wanted to hold her little body in his strong arms and protect her from all that could harm her. How he longed for her mellifluous voice to fill the halls of his shadowy Kingdom, for her dazzling smile to permeate the very darkness within him.

Hecate was right, he was clinging to false hope. Lust was undeniably there, but that was not all of it.

Leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees, the god buried his head in his hands, the very image of despondence. Even if he did speak to her, she wouldn't want anything to do with him. He was dark, she was light. He was death, she was life.

It was hopeless.

**Poor Hades! Don't you just want to give him a bear hug? Haha, I hope you enjoyed and don't forget to review xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter took a little longer than anticipated to complete, but I'm really happy with it so I think it's worth the wait. Thank you again for the lovely reviews, I kid you not when I say I sat there with a big stupid grin on my face when I read them. If I could give you all cookies I would. Enough rambling, on with the chapter!**

**Warning: this chapter contains a near-rape scene so if that kind of stuff upsets or offends you, I guess you're going to have to skip it :(**

Cursing the tireless thoughts that restrained sleep from taking her in its warm embrace, the goddess of spring gazed up at the canopy of her bed.

Her mother was coming for her tomorrow.

Although she had missed her this past week, Persephone couldn't escape the feeling she would be returning to a prison. A tender, loving prison filled with sunlight and flowers, but a prison nonetheless.

Demeter had never left her daughter on Olympus for as long as a week before, and certainly not without checking up on her at least once a day. Despite the fact she had nearly always been accompanied by either Artemis, Athena or Hestia, Persephone had been free for a week and she'd seized the opportunity to do as she pleased without being having to be mindful of her mother's wrath. Besides, she enjoyed being in the company of other goddesses for once.

Persephone groaned irritably as she kicked the heavy silk sheets off her clammy legs. As she felt the soft breeze that slithered though the chiffon curtains caress her flushed body, she sighed gratefully.

Even though she only wore a thin slip, the goddess felt too hot and her erratic thoughts weren't exactly helping.

Heaving herself upright, Persephone swung her legs over the side of her bed and padded over to the large balcony on the other side of her room. She swept past the gently wafting curtains and stepped onto the balcony, relishing as the cool midnight air welcomed her.

She did not know how long she stayed there admiring the stars as they twinkled gaily in the inky night sky. Time meant nothing as she stood enjoying the tranquillity of the night.

A harsh bang tore Persephone from her daydreaming with a sharp jolt of her lithe body. It was followed by a roar of masculine laughter and more banging and clattering.

Curious, she made her way back into her bedroom and over to her door, pressing her ear up against it. She heard more guffaws of mirth mingled with a relentless smashing as if two boulders were colliding coming from down the hall.

Persephone frowned, aggravated that there would be something else keeping her from sleep. She traipsed over to her bed and threw herself onto it unceremoniously, waiting for the racket to end.

After several minutes, Persephone decided that the wait was futile. She marched over to her huge oak wardrobe, angrily threw the doors open and yanked her satin night robe from the rail. Forcing her arms through the sleeves, not bothering to tie it at the waist, she strode back over to her door and once again listened intently for any sign that the din was receding. To her dismay, it only seemed to growing louder.

Suddenly apprehensive, the spring goddess timidly opened her door and tiptoed out into the ill-lit hallway. As she made her way tentatively towards the noise, she determined that it was coming from one of the parlours that lay at the very end of the hallway.

The howling of manly laughter unnerved Persephone and she decided to make her way back to her room. As she spun on her heel and started to rush back towards safety, she felt a hand seize her upper arm and roughly jerk her backwards.

Whirling around to rebuke whoever had their steely grip on her delicate arm, Persephone's expression fell into one of dread.

"Now what is a pretty little thing like you doing out alone at this hour?" The all too familiar voice seemed to ooze unpleasantly into her ears and she cringed away from the sound.

"Ares," Persephone whispered, trying in vain to release her arm from his grip, "I want to return to my room, please let me go."

He pulled her even closer to him so her face was smothered by his overly muscular chest. His strange, sickly scent invaded her nose as her heart began to thump painfully hard. Every nerve ending in her body was electrified with fear, screaming at her to run as far as she could.

"No, no, no. I don't think you will be returning to _your_ room tonight," Ares laughed cruelly, "but you are most welcome to return to _mine, _sweetheart."

Persephone stopped writhing for a moment and glared up at him in defiance.

"I will not, Ares," was her icy rejection.

She began to squirm once more as she saw his pompous face twist with indignation. His grasp on her tightened and Persephone bit back a cry of pain. She would not be seen as weak.

Ares lowered his head so his nose was close to touching hers. The spring goddess tried to turn her head away but she felt a large hand viciously cup her chin and force her to look into his eyes as they burned with a violent, unrestrained desire.

"You have refused me for the last time, darling," he snarled dangerously.

Persephone gasped sharply as her back was forced up against the cold, unforgiving wall and a shriek of agony echoed along the hallway as she felt her head smash against it.

He was everywhere, his wild hands explored her body and Persephone was sure she was drowning in him. His brutish lips descended upon her tender neck as he licked and nipped; she could not breathe, she could not see anything that wasn't _him._ Her throat seemed to constrict when she attempted to scream; her voice would not function.

"Why so silent, sweetheart? Are you not enjoying yourself? Well, we shall have to see to that."

He pressed his sweltering body closer to hers and she felt something very firm touch her inner thigh.

"Get off me, Ares!" The spring goddess was surprised at the volume of her own voice, which had apparently made a welcome reappearance.

The god of war only let out a bark of ruthless laughter.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said in a tone of approval as he reached for the hem of Persephone's slip. As the sting of traitorous tears hurt her eyes, she tried to push his hands away but only succeeded in having her own pinned against the wall.

This couldn't be happening. Persephone was sure she was about to wake up in the warm comfort of her bed, gasping and terrified, yet safe.

But as Ares' hands massaged her thighs, reaching higher and higher, a heavy, piercing realisation spread throughout the goddess of spring like poison.

This wasn't a nightmare; it wasn't going to end. Her mother was right.

Her mother was _right._

* * *

><p>Auburn tresses, emerald orbs. How they haunted him so.<p>

For the last four days since his _illuminating_ conversation with Hecate, Hades' every thought had been infiltrated by that of the beautiful goddess, as he had so affectionately dubbed her. Of course, this was only in his head; Hecate had never tried to raise the sensitive topic again, and Hades certainly had no mind to.

Yet he could not escape her. Even in sleep she tormented him; his dreams were filled with her, every part of her. Her hair, her eyes, her skin, her voice. He was sure he could even smell her sweet scent. They always ended the same way though; he would reach out a hand, yearning to touch her creamy skin and stroke her silky hair, but she would vanish each time. Right before his very eyes, she would disappear into nothingness and leave him with an agonising ache in his chest that did all but diminish when he awoke panting and sweating.

It took all of his willpower to stay put in the Underworld and not seek her out. What he would do when he found her, he did not know.

A sharp rap on his study door interrupted Hades' brooding.

"Enter."

He kept his eyes fixed on the large hearth whose hissing flames seemed to taunt his suffering as he barely registered the figure that entered his study.

"Thanatos," he greeted dully, "I assume this is not a social visit."

The death god surveyed his King and friend's sullen countenance and frowned slightly. He knew something had been troubling Hades over the past few days, but knew better than to ask him about it. Deciding it was not wise to act his usual, banter-loving self, Thanatos took a step closer to Hades and gave him a serious look.

"No, my Lord," he said, "but I bring news from Charon."

This caught Hades' attention. His ferryman never bothered him unless it was something of paramount importance.

"What news?" He had an inkling as to was Thanatos was about to say; Charon ferried souls across the rivers Styx and Acheron, and only ever struggled if a large number entered the Underworld at once.

There was only one thing it could be.

Thanatos hesitated; he was sure Hades would not take this well.

"There has been a sudden influx of souls, my Lord," he mechanically stated, trying to ignore the way Hades' body tensed, "Just this evening two, perhaps by now even three thousand souls entered the Underworld in the space of a few hours."

The god-King felt the red-hot flames of anger blaze in the pit of his stomach.

"_Ares_." The name slipped from his lips in a drop of pure venom.

Thanatos gave a solemn nod.

Did Hera even speak to her son as she'd said she would? Hades knew that Zeus, being the arrogant fool he was, would not have spoken to Ares himself for the sake of his pride. Somehow, though, he doubted that Hera would go back on her word. Which meant that Ares had ignored it.

Clenching his fists, Hades fought to keep his flaring temper under control. He had been civil. He had not caused a fuss. Yet Ares had chosen to disregard his warning and _that _made his blood boil.

Enough was enough.

With all the fluidity with which the gods were graced, Hades rose from his chair and reached for his cloak. He swung the heavy black material over his broad shoulders and turned stoically to face Thanatos.

"Tell Charon to do the best he can. I will see to Ares myself," he commanded and without waiting to receive the compliant bow that Thanatos gave, he marched abruptly from his study.

As he walked along the bleak passageway, Hades' impatience to tear Ares' throat out conquered his fragile self-control and with a barely perceptible wave of his hand, he disappeared from the passageway only to appear in the one place he despised above all others.

A bracing midnight wind dishevelled his coal-black hair as he appeared before the grand marbled building once again. The darkness of the night marginally cooled Hades' anger; he was accustomed to darkness and it made him feel as much at home as he possibly could here.

Scaling the steps and hurling the immense golden doors open in one effortless movement, he came to a standstill when a thunderous smashing met his ears. The god scowled as he guessed the source of the obnoxious racket; no doubt Dionysus was living up to his title as the god of wine and merriment. However, judging by the sheer volume of the clamour, he was not alone and Hades knew full well who would have joined him in his little rendezvous.

He began to make his way through the unilluminated hallways, stalking the persistent tumult as it became louder and louder. Hades found, behind the anger, he was thoroughly looking forward to his confrontation with Ares. Son of Zeus he may be, Ares was no true match for Hades.

The dark god was mulling over the amusing thought of what Zeus might do if his brother killed his son when a peculiar noise, entirely separate from the annoying din further down the hall, met his ears.

Heavy breathing and the distinct, sloshy sound of kissing had him suppressing a groan. Ares and Aphrodite, probably. It would be just like them to do this in a _hallway_ of all places.

However, when he discerned the sound of muffled whimpering, his breath hitched in his throat and started to inch forward, careful to be as quiet as possible.

Two dark forms, evidently male and female, soon became apparent to him. They were impossibly close to the wall and Hades was struck by how tiny the female was compared to the male. She was clearly struggling against the male so, in rare a bout of compassion, Hades reached forward to pull him off her.

The girl appeared to notice him before he could seize a lusty arm and, as her eyes locked with his, Hades was sure somebody had submerged him in the coldest of waters.

He knew those eyes. He had dreamt of those eyes. Those _beautiful_ green eyes.

She was crying, Hades could tell by the way her eyes shimmered despite the lack of light. He was disturbed at how intensely her visible anguish affected him.

Without the knowledge how it happened, the dark god found himself with one strong hand crushing the male's neck, shoving his back up against the wall with a resonant thud. Cold fury bled into every part of his powerful body as he recognised him to be the very god he had been forced to return to this dreadful place for, overwhelming him to the point where he was convinced he would thoroughly rip him to nugatory shreds.

Only the thought of the precious goddess standing panting and snivelling behind him gave him some semblance of self-control.

Turning to face her cautiously, Hades felt his expression of rage automatically soften into one of tenderness.

"You should return to your room, my dear," he uttered gently as the sight of her tear-stained cheeks tugged at his heart.

With the hopelessly terror-stricken look she gave him, he was surprised that he did not lunge forward and take her in his arms to whisper words of comfort and adoration in her ear. Nonetheless, he managed to stay put; he had no doubt such an act would only heighten her fear.

The beautiful goddess nodded tremulously and he watched her protectively as she hurried down the hall, only turning back to the sorry excuse for a god he had imprisoned in his grasp when she was fully out of sight.

Ares' hands were latched onto Hades' forearm, though he noticed no attempt was made to extricate himself from the dark god's grip. Not completely empty-headed then.

Hades slowly let his hand come away from Ares' neck and they stood staring at each other for a few seconds before Hades drew back his fist and hurled it forwards, revelling in the pained grunt the war god made as it collided with his cheek.

He grabbed the front of Ares' white chiton and rammed him violently against the wall once again.

"My patience is now non-existent," Hades growled.

Ares' expression was one torn between apprehension and arrogance.

"I suspect your mother did not neglect to inform you of my warning," the god-King continued, "so, naturally, I have come to the conclusion that you have ignored it."

The proceeding silence was sufficient in telling him his conclusion was correct.

Hades loomed over the god of war with all the intimidation and mercilessness that was so ingrained in his character.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that your disregard for my warning was born out of your apparent idiocy. So, now that I'm here, I will clear up any confusion. If you do not stop precipitating these petty little wars, battles, whatever you want to call them, by my life I will make sure you will _never_ be able to take part in _any_ war ever again, regardless of its source."

If the situation hadn't been so infuriating to Hades, he would have found the umbrage that coloured Ares' countenance to be highly amusing.

"You can't do that. I'm the god of _war–_"

"Do not tell me what I can and can't do," was Hades' blunt interruption, "I have never been inclined to make idle threats."

Though he relented, Ares made no effort to hide his obvious belief that he was being treated unfairly.

"That goddess you just violated," Hades said, endeavouring to cool the fire rising in his chest, "Who is she?"

After a somewhat puzzled look, Ares reluctantly answered, "Her name is Persephone, goddess of spring. She's Zeus and Demeter's bastard daughter."

"Persephone…" Though the name was entirely new to him, Hades was aware that Zeus had fathered a daughter by their sister. He had no idea _this _was that daughter; how could anything so perfect have been made, in part, by _Zeus_?

"Yes. She was sent here for a week while her mother attended some harvest festival. I don't think she trusts the nymphs in Enna to take care of her for that long. She's such a beauty; it's a pity she returns home tomorrow." Ares' smug voice caused Hades' head to snap towards him and his hands to twist the fabric of his chiton tightly in his fists.

"If you ever go near her again, I will make sure you loath your mother for bringing you into this world."

With that, the god-King relinquished his grip on the chiton and dematerialised from the hallway, leaving Ares alone and no less than humiliated.

* * *

><p>Persephone lay in a trembling heap on her bed, her face buried in her arms and her hair splayed wildly about her head. The goddess had cried herself dry and her eyes were inflamed and sore.<p>

She was in utter shock. She had honestly believed that she was going to lose her maidenhood to that brute of a god.

But she hadn't.

The thought elicited a relieved sigh from her, and she turned on her back so as to gaze up at the canopy as she had before…

Oh, how she wished her temper and curiosity hadn't led her from the safety of her room. What had she been thinking?

The spring goddess couldn't help but run through each agonising detail in her head. The way his hands were pitilessly unyielding on her body, the way his lips had tainted her virginal skin, the way his body had sounded as it was forced against the wall as her own had been…

She realised with a tightening in her chest that she had never thanked the god who had rescued her.

Persephone had a suspicion as to who he was; her mother had once told her of her older brother, describing him as a cold and cruel god with no appreciation for anything living. She had heard him mentioned now and then in conversations on Olympus; Demeter truly seemed to at least have no care for him, if not dislike him.

Ironic, then, that he should be the one to preserve what her mother held most dear.

With that resonating thought, the goddess of spring drifted into a peaceful slumber peppered with dreams of a handsome, black-haired god with piercing silver eyes and a tender expression that seemed reserved especially for her.

**So I suppose Hades and Persephone have ****_kind of _****met now, though the circumstances weren't exactly pleasant. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello lovely readers! You'll have to forgive me if updates start to become a little more spaced out; I'm seriously stressed out at the minute with college and I've been on several (and will be going on more) University open days which have taken up my Saturdays. Just please remember that I'm not abandoning you, I actually value you all very much. I'm not the kind to just throw a chapter out without making sure it is the best it can be so I like to take my time regardless. Anyway, this is kind of a 'calm before the storm' chapter. You'll see why ;) **

_"It's a pity she returns home tomorrow."_

The words coursed through Hades' head like a swarm of angry bees, rendering him incapable of thinking of anything else.

_"She was sent here for a week while her mother attended some harvest festival. I don't think she trusts the nymphs in Enna to take care of her for that long."_

Enna.

He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or troubled having obtained this new information. On the one hand it meant he wouldn't lose her, but on the other hand it meant she was a constant temptation. Like an itch just waiting to be scratched, a hunger just waiting to be satiated.

Yet contemplating losing her was what made Hades resolve that it was relief he felt. It was clear, and understandable, that she was a source of great interest to the gods on Olympus. Ares had made that much obvious.

The memory of the previous night had him gripping the arms of his throne with such force he wouldn't have been surprised if it began to crack and crumble beneath him. Ares hands and lips had been all over her, touching her, feeling her. Only the knowledge that the war god's attention had been unwanted prevented the green-eyed monster of jealousy from raising its ugly head.

A knife was plunged into his chest when he recalled her distress. He'd never wanted anything so much as to comfort her, to tell her she was safe and that he would never let anything hurt her. But he couldn't, and this only twisted the cruel blade buried in his heart.

An acerbic laugh escaped his mouth as he thought of the incongruity of having a heart.

"My Lord?" An even voice punctuated Hades' bitter melancholy.

He jerked his head to his right, his eyes locking with the pitch-black orbs that belonged to one of his most trusted advisors and friend.

"Yes, Thanatos?"

The personification of death regarded his king for a moment, concern etched into his well-defined features.

"Is something the matter? It is clear you have been distracted for some time now, and your work is suffering," he said, tilting his head towards the soul that stood at the bottom of the steps, anxiously awaiting the dark god's judgement.

"Nothing is the matter, my friend," Hades assured him in a clipped tone, "aside from your constant use of 'my Lord' over the past week or so. You really shouldn't bother with such formalities. Hecate doesn't," he added and, despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Thanatos grinned mischievously and nodded once.

The rest of the day's work passed with little consequence, and Hades was thankful that Thanatos neglected to mention his obvious distraction again. The dark god had always been proficient when it came to concealing his true emotions, so it bothered him greatly to know he had recently been failing miserably at doing so.

He sat on his dark throne, aloof and impassive, judging every soul that came before him. One might argue that he was particularly dedicated to his work after Thanatos questioned him, but it was a mere pretence to disguise where his thoughts truly lay.

It was only when he retired to his chambers that he allowed himself to think of her again, or rather, allowed her to be at the forefront of his mind; he was always thinking of her.

Persephone.

It was bizarre now, to put a name to her face after not knowing for so long. _After not knowing for so long?_

Hades frowned at the crackling fire as he thought about how ridiculous that was. He had known her for a week, and 'known' was a generous word.

But how he longed to know her, how he _ached _to know her. The sudden, painful rush of pure need that surged through him had him leaning over in his seat, clutching at the place he was now certain his heart was.

It dawned on him with a surge of comprehension that he couldn't do it. Sitting back and simply thinking of her was no longer enough, not that it ever really had been. It was no longer enough to physically keep him from her.

What did that mean?

He had to have her, it would be the undoing of him if he didn't. Nevertheless, he was acquainted with Demeter and he was well aware of how controlling his sister could be, a habit she undoubtedly enforced on her precious daughter. Ares' words rang in his head once again;

_I don't think she trusts the nymphs in Enna to take care of her for that long_.

Nymphs? His beloved Persephone, a goddess, was left under the protection of _nymphs?_

Something about this incensed Hades, as if his goddess wasn't strong enough to take care of herself. Yet, as he thought of this, the image of her petrified, tear-stained face ambushed him like a vicious dog, scratching and clawing at him until he acceded to the fact she really wasn't.

A strangling, all-consuming fear gripped him when he considered the interest she'd piqued in the other gods. What if last night wasn't the first of its kind? He couldn't be around her every minute of the day to make certain she was safe. What if another idiot god like Apollo submitted to his lust and attacked her?

The notion made him feel physically sick.

No. He could not, _would not_ let that happen.

After being sure since the day he first saw her that she would hate him if she knew who he was, that her light should not be subjected to the impenetrable darkness of the Underworld and its ruler, Hades realised with a stutter of the newly awakened organ in his chest that she would only be safe, truly safe, with him.

The god of the Underworld stood abruptly with an air of conviction.

He would have her, but he needed to speak with his brother first.

* * *

><p>The euphonious melody of nature soothed Persephone's nerves as she rested against the thick trunk of an oak tree. She had awoken ridiculously early that morning and rose soon after, presuming her mother would come for her as soon as reason would allow. Admittedly, however, that was not the sole incentive behind her early rising.<p>

The spring goddess' mind had been saturated with the events of the night before, for better or for worse, and had been unable doze off again once she awoke. With an exasperated sigh, she'd flung the sheets off her body and proceeded to bathe and dress herself.

Now, as she sat fiddling with the intricate braid which she had fashioned simply to occupy her time, she wrestled with her conflicted feelings about the previous night.

Shame filled her conscience as she recalled Ares' savage hands roaming all over her body, his lips attacking her soft skin; surely she was tainted now? Why hadn't she tried harder to stop him?

For a moment she was confused when her vision began to blur, but quickly understood and raised a hand to impatiently wipe away the tears that threatened to spill onto her porcelain cheeks.

She was being pathetic. Nothing had actually happened, why was she so upset?

But something _could _have happened.

Persephone thought back to the god who had saved her. She was sure she could recollect every little detail about him; his impossibly black hair, his alabaster skin, his towering, masculine frame, and his silver-grey eyes. His expression when he looked at her, too, was embedded in her memory. It had appeared to be tender, almost…loving?

A very unladylike snort erupted from the goddess of spring as she pondered that thought. What an absurd thing to think; he was merely concerned for a woman who had very nearly been defiled.

Yet he did not look to be the sort who was sympathetic towards just anyone…

With a shake of her head, Persephone forced such thoughts from her mind and turned her attention to a bird that had just darted into her line of sight. It flitted across the unblemished sky and she watched wistfully until the bird had disappeared over the horizon.

So much freedom that little bird must have, freedom which she yearned for.

She was surprised with herself for still desiring freedom after last night. She did, however, have a suspicion Ares wouldn't be bothering her again.

The dull crunching of footsteps pierced Persephone's awareness and she turned, suddenly tense, to see who was approaching.

"I thought I might find you here," a wonderfully familiar voice sounded.

Persephone smiled brightly as Artemis sat beside her and leant back against the tree trunk with a weary sigh.

"It seems my dear brother accompanied Ares and Dionysus in demolishing half of the building last night," the hunting goddess grumbled, failing to notice as her friend flinched at a certain name, "Hestia found them this morning still half inebriated."

The goddess of spring averted her gaze as Artemis peered at her.

"Are you alright, Persephone? You look pale."

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied, "I'm just upset about leaving."

The last part was true enough.

Artemis gave her a sad smile and rubbed her shoulder sympathetically.

"I'll come and visit you soon. I promise," she said.

A pensive nod was all the response Persephone gave.

She felt obligated in some way to tell Artemis what had occurred the night before, but something was stopping her, something more than embarrassment or shame.

It was strange but she felt as though she would be betraying a confidence if she said anything about it, like telling Artemis would mean revealing someone else's secret.

Why she felt this way, Persephone had no idea.

The two goddesses sat in contented silence for a while, appreciating the organic sounds of wildlife as it began to rise from its restful slumber.

"Persephone, dear, your mother has arrived!"

Hestia, goddess of the hearth, was making her way towards Persephone and Artemis with a slightly hassled expression covering her heart-shaped face.

"Thank you, Hestia, I'll_–_"

"Oh, Persephone! My dear daughter, how I've missed you!"

Composing herself, Persephone glanced over Hestia's shoulder to see her mother hastening down the path towards them.

With a forced smile, she stepped forward to meet Demeter's keen embrace.

"Are you well? You look pale, darling, are you sick? Oh, you have no idea how I have missed you, have you missed me?"

These questions were never answered; Demeter was too busy fussing over her daughter, inspecting her face, smoothing her hair back and straightening her chiton.

Artemis and Hestia exchanged discrete, critical glances.

"She has been well cared for, sister," the hearth goddess promised warmly, "She truly is a pleasure to have around."

"Of course she is, she's my daughter," was Demeter's haughty reply, though she proceeded to smile gratefully at her elder sister.

The goddess of the harvest turned back to her daughter and took both of her dainty hands in her own.

"We should return now, my sweet. The nymphs are so looking forward to seeing you."

"Yes, mother," Persephone agreed, "we shall return. Artemis, please give Athena my regards. I daresay she is too busy to come and see me off and I do not wish to bother her."

"Of course," Artemis said, encircling her friend in an affectionate hug.

After saying her goodbyes, Persephone accompanied her mother into the large, resplendent carriage that sat waiting to carry them home.

Dispirited, the goddess of spring closed her eyes as she felt the carriage jolt forward and set off at a swift pace, trying to banish a terrible suspicion that she was merely a bird being lured back into her cage.

* * *

><p>"Zeus, I must speak with you."<p>

Hades swung the heavy oak door open and stepped into his brother's chamber in one fluid move, not bothering to stop the door from crashing into the wall behind.

The King of the gods, who was stood on his balcony leaning against the balustrade while reminiscing about his latest tryst with a pretty blonde nymph just that morning, swivelled round at the sound of the unmistakeably rich voice.

"You really should knock," he said in mock reprimand, "I could have been doing anything in here."

The dark god's answering lour was venomous.

"Well, I think it is safe to say that if you were _doing anything_ in here as you so modestly put it, your wife would not be involved so I have no reason to worry about interrupting marital activities."

Zeus grinned his maddeningly arrogant grin and strolled over to his brother.

"I must admit I wasn't expecting to see you back here again for at least a few years," he murmured, running a lazy hand through his golden hair.

Hades smiled mirthlessly before replying, "Trust me, I wouldn't be here if the matter I wish to speak to you about wasn't of paramount importance."

"What is this matter of which you speak?"

"I came here to ask your permission for something."

Zeus gaped at Hades, eliciting a scathing laugh from the dark god.

"Do close your mouth, brother," Hades drawled, "the expression doesn't suit you."

The King quickly composed himself and scowled at his elder brother.

"You cannot blame me for my surprise. You are the last god I would ever have expected to ask my _permission_ for anything."

"Likewise," Hades said quickly, "But I am only here because I think it will save me some problems in the future, and I suppose it is custom to ask a father's permission before marrying one of his daughters."

Zeus froze and scrutinised the god before him as if afraid for his sanity.

"You want…to _marry_…one of _my_ daughters?" The question was spoken slowly, incredulously, as if he had been asked something as nonsensical as to give up his throne.

Hades rolled his eyes and tut-tutted impatiently.

"Yes, Zeus. Do I have your permission?"

"Well…I suppose…"

"I haven't got all day."

"Which one?"

Vexed, the dark god exhaled. This is exactly what he didn't want.

Carefully, he answered, "Persephone."

His brother's aureate eyes lit up in recognition and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Ah, yes," he nodded, "Demeter's daughter. I remember seeing her here a few years ago; she's certainly grown into an appealing young woman."

Hades gritted his teeth. Trust Zeus to think like that.

"But there is one thing I don't understand," the King continued, ignoring the other god's loud groan of frustration, "And that is why you're bothering to ask my permission at all. You and I both know you would have her even if I denied you."

A sinister smile distorted the dark god's chiselled features.

"Yes, I would," he agreed somewhat smugly, "But, as I have explained to you before, I think you're blessing will save me problems in the future. I know what our sister is like and I know she will not be happy when she finds out I have her daughter, which she inevitably will. If I can say I had your permission to take her, there is not so much she can do."

Zeus nodded his head understandingly.

"I think you're right, brother," he concurred, "However, Demeter must know nothing of this. You will have to take Persephone by force, no doubt, otherwise her mother will never let her see the light of day again."

Although Hades resented this fact, he acknowledged that he must indeed carry his beloved off if he valued her freedom, ironic as it was.

"I know," was all he said.

"Very well. Hades, brother, you have my permission to take Persephone, my daughter, as your wife," Zeus declared with an air of conclusiveness.

Keeping his expression indifferent, the dark god bowed his head in silent thanks and briskly left the chamber.

As he marched along the bright, marbled hallway, the merest hint of a smile could be seen tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Finally, _finally_ he could be with the woman with whom he had fallen so desperately in love.

**Are you excited for the next chapter? I aaaaam! I love Hades. Seriously, I'm swooning over him as I write. I hope you delightful people enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to review and I look forward to posting the next chapter *claps hands and squeals* xx**


	6. Chapter 6

_"The only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment." –_ Marquis de Sade

* * *

><p>A balmy breeze danced through the fields of Enna, whispering softly of a sweet summer's day as it fingered thick auburn locks and caressed gossamer skin.<p>

The goddess of spring sat cross-legged by a charming little creek, listening intently to the soothing trickle of water. She reached out a small hand and began to trace idle patterns in the water, smiling prettily as she watched the sunlight glitter on its surface.

"Persephone! Persephone, look at the flowers we've found!"

Remembering the task of collecting flowers that her mother had se her this morning, Persephone leapt to her feet and bounded towards the huddle of nymphs on the other side of the field.

Cyane, a slight nymph with flaxen hair, whirled around and beamed at the goddess. In her arms lay a bouquet of many-hued flowers.

"Look, Persephone, your mother will be so pleased," she squealed, bouncing feverishly.

"I have no doubt she will," Persephone responded, grinning at the excited nymph. Cyane was quite sweet really.

"Oh, I'm so glad _–"_

"Yes, yes, always so eager to please aren't we, Cyane?"

Persephone turned towards the nasally voice that interjected, and was met with the strangely cold gaze of a brunette nymph whose blue eyes twinkled nastily.

"Minthe," the goddess acknowledged with a strained smile.

"Oh, Persephone," the brunette nymph simpered, "I'm so happy you've returned; it got so lonely here without you."

Persephone fought to keep the smile on her face, though she was sure it was now more of a grimace than a smile.

"How was your time on Mount Olympus?" The question was innocent enough, but the spring goddess felt as though she was being cross-examined.

"It was pleasant," she replied shortly, bending down to examine a little cluster of buttercups that lay at her feet.

"I suppose it must have been pleasant to get away for a while," Minthe continued, "And I'd wager you received lots of male attention," she added with a syrupy laugh, though Persephone noticed the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Nothing too bad," she said with a nonchalant shrug, suppressing the unwanted images that clawed at her mind.

When nothing was said in response, Persephone raised her head to see Minthe's expression quickly change into a fervent grin, but not before she caught the look of pure loathing that had distorted her features.

The goddess exhaled noisily before saying, "I think I'll look back over by the creek and see if there are any flowers there my mother would like."

She stood, smoothing out her pale blue chiton and smiling kindly at Cyane before gliding back towards the peaceful creek.

As she scanned her surroundings for anything promising, Persephone wondered what had provoked Minthe's strange behaviour. Clearly, she wasn't happy about the goddess' trip to Olympus and, judging by the glare she had given Persephone, wasn't happy about the prospect of her being the recipient of male attention either.

The goddess of spring frowned, irritated that she was being regarded with contempt by an envious nymph. She had never been sanctimonious over her divinity, but she was still surprised that a nymph would have the audacity to treat a goddess in such a way.

Dismissing such trivial thoughts, Persephone began to scour the area more closely.

She appreciated the simplicity of searching for flowers; it was something she would never tire of. Truthfully, she had rather missed the days when her mother would join her; it meant there was no need for the nymphs to watch over her and the days on which this would happen were the happiest Persephone could remember.

As she drifted along the edge of the creek, a break in the monotonous greenery caught her eye.

With her interest piqued, Persephone wandered closer and saw that a solitary flower sat proudly in the centre of the field, its petals glowing softly against their dull background.

Captivated by the flower's splendour, the goddess edged forward and crouched before it.

"Narcissus," she whispered reverently as she ran gentle fingers over the delicate petals.

Instinctively, she reached for the base of the flower and tugged once, allowing it to come away with a slight snapping sound.

Too mesmerised by the bloom she held, she failed to notice the strange stillness that instantly descended upon the field like a thick, stifling blanket.

Somewhere within her awareness Persephone heard the nymphs shrieking, screaming her name as if it was a mantra but paid them no heed.

It was, however, impossible to ignore the thunderous rumble that proceeded; it began as a barely perceptible vibration but intensified until Persephone franticly covered her ears, releasing the narcissus into a lifeless heap on the ground.

She wheeled around, her gaze immediately drawn to the earth as it began to split and tear as if some great underground beast sought to obliterate anything and everything in its path.

Terror; pure, heart-stopping terror seized the spring goddess and she began to run faster than she ever had in her life.

She headed back towards the creek, unconsciously seeking its safety and tranquillity as her heart started to pound unremittingly against her ribcage, urging her to move faster.

Making no effort to reduce her speed as she made it to the trees beside the creek, Persephone's heart constricted when an ear-splitting, metallic noise cut through the heavy atmosphere like a hot knife through butter.

The goddess turned at the harsh sound of horses braying, their hooves hammering mercilessly against the soft earth.

What she saw would be engraved in her memory for the rest of her life.

Four dark steeds, bigger than any Persephone had ever seen, were hauling a black chariot straight towards her.

Manoeuvring the chariot was a man, tall and broad, cladded in a dark cloak that flailed viciously behind his frame and as Persephone took half-a-second to glimpse him, her overwrought heart fell to her stomach like a lump of ice.

It was _him._

Even from this distance, she could tell it was him.

Suddenly, her back hit the ground and an excruciating, razor-sharp sensation shot up her right leg and for the first time, she screamed.

Everything seemed to speed up as her cry shattered the air like a stone through glass; the horses galloped faster, her breathing became more erratic until, without warning, an unyielding arm wrapped around her waist with an iron grip.

Persephone clawed at the ground, desperately trying to find something to latch onto but the hold on her waist was too strong. She was hoisted upwards and into the chariot as if she weighed nothing at all, but her screams of protest never ceased.

The goddess' body was pressed securely against his, her cries muffled by his chest and before she had time to comprehend what was happening, she felt the chariot plummet back into the earth as Helios' light was lost to an all-consuming darkness.

As Persephone thrashed and beat her little fists against his sturdy chest, a smooth, rich voice halted her screams.

"Calm down, Persephone. You'll worsen your injury if you don't stop. You're safe, I promise."

Promptly realising the pain in her ankle had become almost unbearable, the spring goddess terminated her struggles and let out a small whimper.

"Shhh," came another comforting whisper, "you're okay."

Persephone stiffened as she felt his hand, which had her waist in a firm yet gentle grasp, begin to massage her side soothingly and to both her surprise and frustration, it worked.

She didn't understand. Why was this happening, _what_ was happening? The goddess knew full well who this was; the god who saved her, rescued her from Ares' filthy clutches, but _why_ had he taken her, for _what purpose_?

Her internal struggles were postponed when she felt the chariot jolt and come to a standstill and she heard the four steeds in front whinnying softly as they rested their legs. A shrill yelp escaped her when she was swiftly lifted into the dark god's arms bridal-style.

"Put me down!" she objected as she squirmed awkwardly.

A warm chuckle rumbled deep in his chest before he patiently replied, "I think, my dear, that would be unwise given the state of your ankle."

Prepared to thoroughly bite his head off, Persephone snapped her head towards him only to quickly look away when she realised how close his face was. That and his gaze was so _intense_; she met it briefly and was mortified when she felt a blush creep over her cheeks.

She grudgingly appreciated how carefully carried her, absorbing the impact of each step so as not to jostle her and cause her ankle further pain. They walked for a minute or so, and Persephone took the time to concentrate on calming her rising nerves, but the ominous mist that surrounded them did nothing to help.

Eventually, she was able to discern a silhouette through the murk and without thinking, she tightened her hold around the god's neck anxiously.

"It's all right," he soothed, sensing her unease, "nothing will hurt you here."

The silhouette soon revealed itself to be that of a man garbed in a hooded threadbare robe the colour of mould. He stood in a long, narrow boat upon what seemed to be a river, though it wasn't like any river Persephone had ever seen before; the water was strange, opaque as if it wasn't water at all, rather thick vapour that drifted along in wispy tendrils.

As she was gently lowered down into the boat, Persephone peered up at whom she assumed to be the ferryman. His hands, which were holding a great wooden oar, resembled those of a corpse with a pale greenish tinge and gnarled, twisted fingers. The goddess was inexplicably grateful that the hood of his robe obscured his face completely.

Receiving a fleeting gesture from the dark god, the ferryman began to row away from the shore with his oar, using slow yet powerful strokes to propel the boat forward. Persephone found solace in the faint, rhythmic sound of the disturbed water; it reminded her of the little creek at home.

Home. Her mother must know by now. Oh, how she would fret for her daughter; Persephone had no idea whether the nymphs knew who took her, thus she had no way of knowing if her mother would ever find out.

What if no one ever did find out? Would she be stuck here, forever a prisoner?

Hot tears began to overflow onto her cheeks, leaving behind a glistening trail. Before she could dab them away however, a pale hand reached up and lovingly stroked her face, banishing anything that wasn't her own skin.

"Please don't cry," the god beside her murmured beseechingly.

Persephone's answering glare was enough to make the god lower his hand from her cheek and turn to stare apathetically over the river. As soon as his penetrating gaze was removed from her, the spring goddess felt a weight being lifted from her body as if his eyes had kept her restrained.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Persephone felt the boat bump the opposite shore and she became rigid as it wavered unsteadily.

The dark god stood as the ferryman moved to one side, scooped Persephone up in his strong arms and stepped gracefully out of the boat. He nodded shortly at the ferryman who immediately began to push away from the shore. Persephone watched as his figure grew more and more distant before finally disappearing into the darkness.

As she turned her head intending to inspect her surroundings for possible future use, her eyelids became heavy and began to droop. Unable to suppress a yawn, Persephone brought a dainty hand to cover her mouth, attempting to disguise it from the god carrying her.

"Feel free to sleep, beautiful. We've got a way to go yet." The voice came as a deep, resonating rumble that threatened to lull the goddess of spring into what she knew would be a deep sleep. However, doing so meant being utterly unaware of her precise whereabouts and Persephone wasn't willing to do anything in his favour.

In an effort to stay awake, she shifted inelegantly in the god's arms to make herself more uncomfortable, a scowl twisting her face as she saw his lips curl upwards into an amused smirk as she did so. Her expression, however, quickly dissipated when she saw what lay ahead.

At the northern extremity of the wide path they were walking along was a colonnaded palace sitting hulking and tenebrous. It was becoming more distinguishable with each step taken by the dark god and Persephone could make out its thick pillars and columns. She had a peculiar impulse to turn her head away, as if the palace would lure her in if she stared for too long.

It soon became apparent that her efforts to keep sleep from grasping her were in vain since her next conscious though was wondering why she was so comfortable. She stirred groggily for a moment, fisting the soft sheets beneath her and burying her face in a squashy pillow. Her blood ran cold when she remembered what had happened and she sat bolt upright in alarm.

The goddess' eyes darted around the room as they adjusted to the dim lighting being issued from the fire that crackled in the hearth on the opposite wall. It was not a large room, though by no means small, but was struck Persephone the most was how unusual it was, at least in comparison to the other rooms she had been in.

There was no natural light, since there was not a single window, and the stone floor and walls darkened the room's overall feel. A mahogany writing desk sat in one corner and a huge dressing table stood as the principal feature of the main wall.

Persephone swung her legs over the edge of the bed and immediately regretted it as her ankle injury, which had been temporarily forgotten, made itself known again.

Before she had time to assess the damage, the door to her room creaked open and she whipped her head around in trepidation.

"Ah. I see you are awake. I had hoped to take care of your ankle while you were sleeping but it seems we shall have to make do." The dark god's oddly seductive, baritone voice seemed to wrap around her like silk.

He walked around the bed, crouched in front of Persephone and set a vial of liquid and a roll of white cloth down on her bedside table. Gazing at her swollen ankle for a moment, he peered up at her with a hesitant, almost pained expression.

"Forgive me; I know my hands are cold but this won't take long," he murmured softly, and proceeded to lift her foot and place it carefully on his leg.

His hands _were _cold, though Persephone suspected it would be rather pleasant had he not been handling her already aching ankle. While he gently coated her ankle in a strange, greenish-blue liquid from one of the vials, the spring goddess took the opportunity to examine the god before.

Her eyes traced his large form; his broad shoulders, his heavily muscled arms, his toned chest, all the epitome of masculinity. She moved on to scrutinise his facial features; his nose, his lips, his strong jaw, his silver-grey eyes. His inky hair fell tousled to his shoulders, somehow even blacker than his attire. He was perfect. Not handsome in the way the other gods were handsome, but darkly handsome.

Fortunately, the goddess had just glanced down at her now securely bandaged ankle when he looked back up at her. She watched as he cautiously raised an icy hand and placed it on her soft cheek. The moment his hand made contact with her heated skin, Persephone felt as though her insides were twisting and churning into a maelstrom; it was as if she was perched on the edge of a deep precipice with a strange, incomprehensible urge to jump.

"You truly are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," the dark god breathed, his eyes burning with a strange intensity as they travelled over her body before returning to her face.

Persephone was irritated to find her cheeks beginning to warm, made worse when she stuttered, "W-why have y-you brought me here?"

The god removed his hand from her cheek, much to Persephone's perplexing disappointment, and stood abruptly, turning his back on her.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked, so quietly that the goddess only just managed to decipher his words.

"I-I think so," she mumbled. Why was she suddenly so nervous?

He turned back to look at her with a meaningful expression.

"You're my mother and father's elder brother," Persephone elaborated, concentrating on twisting the fabric of her chiton between her slender fingers.

The spring goddess flinched when a cool finger slid beneath her chin and tilted her head upwards, forcing her to meet his scorching gaze.

"Do you know my name?"

A charged silence thickened the air before she whispered, "Hades".

Closing his eyes, the god exhaled deeply.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a second and an eternity, before he opened his eyes and lightly caressed the tender skin below her jaw.

"You need to sleep, beautiful," he said, "You've had a long day."

Persephone gave an involuntary nod and was vaguely aware of the god-King sweeping out of her chamber.

Too exhausted to be uptight about sleeping in her chiton, she numbly climbed into the four-poster bed and snuggled down under the luxuriously soft sheets. Her eyelids fluttered shut and the goddess of spring fell into a dreamless sleep, blissfully unaware of just how much her life was about to change.

**A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed this, it's taken me a while and I've gone over it and changed it hundreds of times. I was stumped over quite a few things and I wanted to make sure it was a good chapter, especially considering its importance. Persephone's reaction to being kidnapped was something I mulled over for a while; I think we see a bit of her fieriness in the beginning, but she quickly becomes kind of fascinated with Hades. He is damn sexy after all. We will be seeing her fieriness again though. Poor Hades ;) xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Apologies for taking longer than usual; I have mock exams in December - how fun - and I have to take them seriously this year, but this chapter was pretty difficult to write so it would have taken longer regardless. Nonetheless, I rather like the chapter and I hope you all do too. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, I cannot overstate how much I love reading them :)**

If there was one thing Hades had not yet considered, it was this.

"You _kidnapped_ her?"

Hecate stood beside his huge writing desk, her deep blue eyes wide with incredulity. Her blood red hair was slightly ruffled, as if her disbelief of the situation had been a physical blow. Even Thanatos, who lingered circumspectly behind the mystical goddess, appeared somewhat perturbed.

The god-king had neglected to inform them of his intentions before seizing the goddess of spring; he had delayed only a night before taking her from her fields in Enna. Only when he was sure she was sleeping safely and soundly in his palace did he entertain the idea that he would have no other choice than to inform his friends, lest they happen upon the goddess without so much as an explanation as to who she was and why she was here.

Now, with one strong arm supporting his body over the mantelpiece, Hades stood staring into the flaming hearth.

"Yes, Hecate, I kidnapped her," he confirmed jadedly, running a hand over his face and back through his tousled hair.

"But_–_I don't_–_she…_why_?" The question, Hades knew, did not satisfy the confusion Hecate clearly wished to express, and he found himself feeling grateful that she was, at least currently, unable to articulate said confusion.

"Because I love her," he answered, and the strange simplicity of truth hit him like a strike across the face. He did love her. How it was possible to fall so deeply in love after a mere two encounters, he did not know.

The fire hissed and spat raucously as a graceless silence flooded his study. Hades didn't bother to turn to see his Hecate and Thanatos' expressions; he could picture them perfectly in his mind and was unwilling to meet their disbelieving gazes. They remained silent and unmoving for quite some time, neither one keen to break the safety that came with the absence of words.

Surprisingly, it was Thanatos who recovered first.

"Hades," he said softly, as if the dark god could have shattered if his voice was any louder, "Where is Persephone now? Who is taking care of her? She must be terrified."

The death god was met with a condescending glare as Hades straightened to his full height and turned to face him.

"She is sleeping," the god-king responded in a sharp tone, "I have appointed a few servants to watch over her, and inform me if she wakes."

Thanatos glanced at Hecate who had apparently regained her composure and was looking at the dark god with a rather troubled expression. She raised her hands before her, as though she was approaching a mentally unstable individual, and took a sheepish step forward.

"This is madness, Hades," she whispered, "She is Demeter's daughter, only the fates know how she'll react when she discovers Persephone is missing, which she probably already has. You cannot possibly think any good will come of this."

Hades' bitter laugh rang through his study, eliciting flinches from the god and goddess before him.

"My, my, Hecate, haven't you had a change of heart? It wasn't so long ago that you were overjoyed at my predicament. Don't think I was too blind to see that," he added when the goddess opened her mouth to protest, "No, you were happy that wretched old Hades finally had something worth living for. Yet, now that that something, or rather someone, is in this very palace, you treat me as though I am insane."

"I didn't expect you to be so selfish as to kidnap a defenceless young woman for your own personal gain!" Hecate's outburst echoed maliciously as her face fell, knowing she had hit a nerve.

The longest and most uncomfortable silence thus proceeded, and Hades took satisfaction as his anger seeped from his body, causing Hecate to wince and Thanatos to tense.

"Leave."

"Hades, I_–_"

"Leave!" He boomed. "I do not wish to speak of this any further. Hecate, feel free to visit Persephone when she awakens, but do not rouse her any sooner. I am sure you can find her chamber," the last sentence was added with a strong acrimonious intonation.

With a final icy glare, Hades turned his back on his friends and threw himself into his favourite chair by the fire. He noted with relief that Hecate and Thanatos did not tarry in leaving him to his brooding.

What was he supposed to do now? It seemed that all he could do was wait for her to wake and then speak with her. But what would he say? Intuition told him telling her his feelings would do nothing to help the situation. How would she react? Would she be angry, sad or accepting?

These unanswerable questions were not helping his frame of mind, plus he found himself torn between eagerly anticipating their next meeting and half dreading it. Hades was sure her response before wasn't fully conscious; she was exhausted after all. It was a fool's hope to believe he would get the same, rather calm reaction twice.

The god-king thought back to the way she'd sat demurely on the edge of the bed, the way he felt her eyes burning into him as he tended to her ankle, the way his name fell from her lips in a drop of pure liquid gold. Gods, how he wanted to hear her scream that name as he made love to her…

_What?! _

With an exasperated shake of his head, Hades moved from his chair by the fire and seated himself behind his great mahogany desk, rolling out a thick piece of parchment and dipping his quill in a pot of ink.

_Zeus, _

_It has been done. I personally seized Persephone while she was with her nymphs in the fields of Enna. They were not an issue at the time, but I fear they will inform Demeter as to the identity of her daughter's abductor. I am sure they recognised me; I can think of none with whom I would be mistaken with. I requested your permission for a reason and you granted it. Do bear this in mind, brother, when our sister inevitably comes to you for assistance in retrieving Persephone. I will not return her._

_Hades_

The last line made the dark god wince; he truly did sound like a ruthless captor.

Once the letter was sealed with red wax, Hades leaned back to stare pensively at the ceiling. He could trust Hermes to deliver the letter safely to Zeus, and the messenger god was due a trip to the Underworld. It would have to be discreet though; Persephone could not know Hermes was here and vice versa.

Entirely averse to torturing himself with the prospect of his next meeting with Persephone, Hades retired to his grand bedchambers in an attempt to employ sleep as a distraction.

This, as was becoming a frequent and worrying occurrence for Hades, was a fool's hope. He had been unable to sleep soundly since he first laid eyes on his beloved goddess, so what on earth made him think he could sleep knowing she was in his palace?

Nevertheless, he forced his eyes shut and made an attempt to control his breathing.

No, all he could see was her face.

With the grace of an angry leopard, the god leapt from his gigantic bed and began to pace incessantly, occasionally running a large hand over his face or through his hair.

_What had this woman done to him?_

* * *

><p>"Do you need anything, my lady?"<p>

The voice was high and brittle as it rang eerily through Persephone's bed chamber. She cringed slightly at the sound, but nonetheless rose from her position on the bed and turned to face her chamber door.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw the small, shadowy figure that stood in her doorway. It was undoubtedly female, though Persephone had difficulty acknowledging this, and appeared to be more of a girl than a woman.

But what really troubled the spring goddess was the way the girl seemed to be faint and blurry, as if made of smoke.

"My lady?"

Persephone started and blushed prettily when she realised she'd been staring.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…I just_–"_

"Please, my lady, there is no need to apologise," the shadowy girl said kindly. "My name is Agathe, I'm one of your servants. Is there anything you need?"

Due to the combined effect of having only just woke up from a deep slumber and her prevailing distress caused by her current situation, Persephone merely blanched at the girl. Agathe seemed to sympathise with the goddess and gave her a gentle smile.

"This must be very confusing for you. However, please believe me when I say that you are safe here; Lord Hades is not as bad as he seems."

As she gazed at Agathe, Persephone's eyes began to sting with anguished tears.

"Why did he kidnap me?" She asked, a note of hysteria seeping into her voice. "Why am I here?"

The girl glanced down at the floor uneasily before carefully replying, "I cannot say for sure, my lady. The king will be here any moment though, and he will explain everything."

At Agathe's words, the goddess' emerald eyes widened and every muscle in her body tensed.

"What? What do you mean he'll be here any moment? What does he want?" Her voice was now shrill with absolute panic and her body started to tremble.

"Oh no, my lady, please don't be frightened," Agathe implored, stepping forward but seeming to think better of it. "He will not harm you, he will simply explain."

Persephone opened her mouth to beg the shadowy girl to tell Hades not to come, but her voice was halted by a sharp knock on her chamber door.

"Persephone?" The spring goddess' stomach churned as the smooth, baritone voice sounded from behind the slightly ajar door. "May I come in?"

Silence.

"Persephone?"

Agathe gave the horrified goddess a fleeting look before drifting towards the door and exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

Muffled voices, one high-pitched, one low and rumbling, could be heard for a minute or so before the former trailed off.

For a moment, everything seemed to come to a standstill. Persephone could feel _his_ presence on the other side of the door, though he made no move to open it, and her skin began to tingle with anxiety and another emotion she could not identify.

Eventually, the door was pushed open with a loud creak, revealing a rather tired-looking god whose handsome face was contorted as if he was in pain.

He took a tentative step forward but stopped when Persephone stiffened.

"Persephone," he whispered reverently, her name a prayer on his lips. "Persephone, do not fear me. I would never harm you."

At this, the goddess of spring gaped at Hades as if he had three heads. She felt her initial fear being overridden by white-hot anger.

"Harm me?" She repeated incredulously. "No, Lord Hades, you would never harm me but you _would _kidnap me."

The dark god winced, much to Persephone's satisfaction.

"Why did you kidnap me?" She demanded.

"It was a necessity."

"_What?_"

"Please, Persephone, just listen to me_–_"

"No, I want you to tell me why you brought me here."

Hades glowered at her, apparently irritated by her tenacity, as he tersely answered, "You will find out why in due course."

A surprisingly scathing laugh erupted from the spring goddess, who now felt no fear whatsoever, only fury.

"Oh, will I? Isn't that reassuring? I suppose I'll just sit about and wait for that to happen, feel free to take your time_–_"

"Stop this, Persephone, now_–_"

"No, I will not!" She shrieked frantically, only to squeal in protest when Hades' hands latched onto her wrists, pulling her roughly against his body.

The goddess struggled but he was far too strong; instead she stubbornly refused to meet his gaze, though she felt as though it was singing her face.

"Look at me," he ordered, his tone unmistakeably that of one accustomed to absolute rule.

Still, Persephone refused, keeping her eyes locked on the hollow of his throat.

"Look. At. Me."

Finally deciding it was childish to refuse any longer, the goddess of spring tilted her head to fully meet his scorching gaze, instilling as much abhorrence into her expression as she could.

"Have you quite finished, darling?"

"Don't call be that," she spat venomously.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

A deep chuckle ripped through the dark god's chest and he lowered his face so it was a mere inch from hers.

"Well aren't you a little fire ball?" He purred.

Persephone could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he surveyed her closely. She hated the way her heart leapt nervously in her chest and could have cursed her traitorous body when she felt it flush a deep red.

From the corner of her eye she saw his lips pull up into a smirk, and the goddess felt another rush of anger.

"Let go of me."

Appearing reluctant, Hades gradually loosened his hold on her wrists. Never once breaking eye contact, he let go of her and took a step backwards.

"Haven't you got anything better to do than kidnap unwilling women?" Her question was meant to rile him, but part of her was genuinely curious as to its answer.

He frowned at her like a father with a feckless child as he replied, "I haven't done this before, Persephone."

"Have you not?" Her tone was laced with mock veneration, as though she respected him for only kidnapping one woman as opposed to several. "Then why, out of all the women on earth, did you kidnap _me_?"

The god-king looked at her with such an unfathomable expression that Persephone might have thought him made of stone if it wasn't for the way he pressed his lips together.

She was very conscious of just how formidable this god was; his powers were much more potent than hers, and he could do whatever he wished with her. No one would know, and even if they did the spring goddess doubted they would question him. He could throw her down at any moment and take her against her will…

No. No, he would not do that. It was he, after all, that saved her from Ares. It was he that looked at her with that expression filled with such tender adoration.

Timidly, the goddess of spring peered up at the god stood before her and her already rugged breath caught in her throat.

There was that that expression again. It was something about the way his eyebrows drew together slightly, the way his lips were set in a way that suggested a smile, the way his jaw held no tension and, above all else, the way his silver-grey eyes softened into a warm liquid pewter.

What was happening? This man had kidnapped her, taken her against her will. Even if he did…_feel _something for her, he clearly had no regard for what she wanted.

"You're no different from your brothers," she muttered, resisting the urge to recoil when his expression changed to resemble one of a person who had just been slapped. "Worse, maybe, for you seem to see yourself as better. At least they know what lustful fools they are."

This time, Persephone was unable to withhold a flinch when his handsome face twisted and contorted into what could only be described as cold fury. Her bedchamber was silent yet the goddess had to fight an impulse to cover her ears.

With one, long step, the dark god closed the space between them. His eyes, once filled with reverence and adoration, were now filled with a blazing fire as they bore into hers.

"I have never been, am not, and never _will _be like my brothers," he hissed. "If I were anything like them, you would no longer be the _maiden _of spring."

Pausing for only a moment to take in her stunned expression, Hades wheeled around and marched from the room, closing the door behind him with more force than was necessary.

How long she stood there with the mouth agape, Persephone didn't know. Only when there was a quiet knock at her door was she torn from her stupor.

Agathe sidled into the room with a concerned look a on her face.

"A hot bath would do you good," she suggested gently, making her way towards the door on the far side of the chamber and disappearing through it.

The sound of running water calmed Persephone considerably. She ran slender fingers through her tangled hair as she glanced down at her crumpled chiton, and decided that a bath would definitely do her good.

She glided over to the bathroom and gasped loudly when she peeked around the door. The huge room was fringed with black and gold pillars that stretched all the way to the tall ceiling, and the bath was more of a pool, now filled with steaming water.

"This is beautiful," the spring goddess said absentmindedly, spinning in a circle as she entered the bathroom to get a better view.

Agathe smiled and gestured for her to sit down on a stool in the corner. Confused, Persephone perched herself awkwardly on the edge and watched as the shadowy girl crouched down before her.

"Do you mind if I…?"

Persephone followed Agathe's pointed finger and looked down at her still bandaged ankle, which had been completely forgotten.

"Oh, yes, of course. I forgot…" She trailed off.

"I suspect Lord Hades used one of Hecate's special concoctions on your ankle, my lady. It should be healed by now," Agathe explained as she carefully unwrapped the white cloth from the goddess' foot.

"Hecate?"

"Yes, the goddess of witchcraft and the crossroads."

The name sounded familiar to Persephone; she'd probably heard it on Olympus or read it in a book. The latter seemed most likely.

A cold, soft touch that felt as though someone was breathing on her ankle made the goddess jump sharply.

"My apologies," Agathe whispered with a slightly sad expression.

"It's okay," Persephone said before sheepishly adding, "Forgive me, and feel free to tell me I'm being terribly rude, but…I was wondering…what you are…"

The shadowy girl peered up at the goddess with a benign look softening her youthful features.

"I'm a shade," she answered, "meaning I am the spirit of one who is deceased."

Persephone's eyes widened. Agathe was…dead.

"Oh."

"I know this is all new to you," the shade said, observing the goddess' bewilderment. "It is okay to be scared, but please don't be. You are safe here."

With a nod of her throbbing head, Persephone stood and quickly unclothed herself, throwing her chiton on the stool behind her. She wasn't worried about being naked in front of Agathe; she had often been bare in front of the nymphs and was happy with her body.

Eager to be enveloped in the inviting, crystal clear water, she began to lower herself into the bath and sighed contentedly as the warm, silky liquid loosened her tight muscles.

As Agathe began to wash and rinse her hair, the goddess of spring thought of how strange her current situation was. She had been _kidnapped. _If that wasn't abnormal enough, her kidnapper was the god of the _Underworld_.

In a way she regretted that she had accused him of being like his brothers; she knew he wasn't, but she'd just wanted to anger him the way he'd angered her. Yet he had still carried her off, as his brothers had undoubtedly done to countless women, but why he had done so without bedding her, forced or otherwise, made Persephone think he wanted more. The thought made her skin prickle with a feeling she couldn't name.

No, she had to get out of here. Demeter would certainly know of her disappearance by now and Persephone couldn't bear to think of her anguish, or of the lengths she knew her mother would go to in order to get her back.

She had to leave.

**Voila! Did you enjoy? Do you love Hades as much as I do? Don't forget to review ;) **


End file.
